Self Destruction
by emeralds in ebony
Summary: She wasn't always so cheerful and filled with good intentions. There was a time, before now, where she had to hide her true feelings on how she felt about herself. It was before he had realized what was happening, what she was doing to herself.


**Self Destruction **

By: emeralds in ebony

_Prologue_

* * *

_Good morning, day  
Sorry I'm not there  
But all my favorite friends  
Vanished in the air  
It's hard to fly when you can't even run  
Once I had the world, but now I've got no one_

_

* * *

_

The pitter patter of the rain that hit the streets was endearing. It was almost enough to drown out all the natural sounds all around. However, it did not disguise the familiar sound of sobs that could rack any soul's body. The cries, loud and immediate, following one after another, did not end anytime soon.

In the clear, under a weeping willow in the titanic pasture, sat a shaking figure. On both knees, her shoulders heaved back and forth, and her hair spilled out from its loose ponytail. Shading her teary eyes from the darkness around her, she continued her sobbing with fresh new tears. There didn't seem to be a way for her to stop.

For a moment, however, her sounds seemed to cease. Although it was only due to lack of air. Breathing in sharply a few times, she whimpered lightly. Sniffling through her runny nose, the girl made a move to shove her hair away from her face. Doing so, the hair subsided towards her back, covering her neck up to her mid-back instead.

Looking up at the dark sky, she blinked, only causing more tears to go astray from her eyes. The once warm chocolate color that brought its hue to her eyes were now a sudden shrilling dirt color, losing its value almost altogether. Under all the sadness that had been kept in her eyes, the only cheerful being in it was hidden.

Her heart-shaped face was swollen, her cheeks held many streaks of bitter water, and there were bags abover her invisible cheekbones. She held her gaze locked on the clouds above her, and she felt all the raindrops mingling with her tears. Stifling a strong cry, she managed to let out a low strangle of one, if it could be known as such.

"Why..." she finally mumbled incoherently, only to herself.

For there wasn't a single other person besides her residing on the deserted field. All the trees shook with every other thunder strike. The grass stems wobbled against the dirted ground, and the weather only caused havoc for the flowerbeds. The weeping willow's branches seemed to cover the young girl, concealing her whole figure from the rest of the loud world, making her own apart of herself.

She turned away from the darkness of the sky above her. Wisps of her light brown hair fell in her way of vision once more, but she wasn't fazed. All this time her tears were affecting her eyesight, therefore a simple strand of hair wouldn't do much of a difference.

Realizing time had passed quickly once she glanced at her right wrist, her leather, hearty watch blinked up at her from the few rays of light left out, unaffected by the sudden ways of being. Time always passed her by when she was down in the dumps, just like right now, in this very wholesome moment.

A bark of a cry was emmited from her lips. Her last cry, though, for it was before she stood up abruptly. Her breaths coming and leaving her raggedly, she hurriedly scratched at her trousers, making sure to get rid of the common stains of dirt and grass that were embedded in them. She did not waste much time with that basic task, for she checked herself a brief moment before turning around and storming away from the weeping willow.

The weeping willow seemed to watch her, its tresses straining to reach the girl running away from its depths. The darkness surrounding the field embraced her, though she knew the way around it just like the back of her hand. Many memories littered the pasture, some of good, while others were of torture. But she always wound up under the weeping willow, with every single horrible problem she happened to face. Although, now, there was no going back. She had to make up her mind and keep it that way; she was determined to.

Inteding to get out of the sanctuary she once searched for, she started jogging. The jogging quickly turning to running, which eventually turned to sprinting. The slushy sounds of her feet hitting the wet, moist grass only grew louder. The thunder above her didn't subside either, and it only caused the girl more pair.

Her hair rushed behind her as she hurriedly scrambled out of the field, and onto the common road in the outskirts of London. It was empty, just as she had left it, and she followed the path. It lead to her to the one place she didn't really want to end up. The one place she never wanted to see again after the many nights and days she had to suffer. It was only torture to see it after her lonesome state.

Her feet started to receive jolts of immense pain through her bones and muscles. She started breathing harder, even if she wasn't sobbing anymore, and her eyes felt themselves moisten. It wasn't because of her crushed feelings, no, it was only on account of just how bad this particular storm was doing her.

Reaching her unfortunate destination, she halted in her tracks. Her legs had gone numb, and she placed her hands against the front of her thighs. She couldn't feel her own hands. Worried out of all hope left out there for her, she rushed toward the tall building. It almost looked deserted, but she caught sight of the lights lit inside.

Once walking up the steps toward the front door, she outstretched a hand and gripped the doorknob with all her might. Turning it all the way, she applied pressure to push against the thick wood of a door. She heard the creaking of the door, and winced silently, wishing that all was silent.

She walked into the darkness, the only source of light coming from a room down the hall. She shut the door behind her, loudly apparently, since there wasn't a reason to hide herself now. The noises had made her pretty obvious for the whole world.

Starting toward the litted room, she could feel the other presence around her. Swallowing thickly, her pace quickened, and she found herself in the familiar wreck of a parlor. The stench covering the room was impossible to avoid, although she made it out as if her nose only smelled fresh lilies and buttermilk, just like her mother always wished it to be.

Bitterly frowning at the basic thought of her mother, the girl's frowned deepened. She wrapped the wet jacket on her upper half tighter, though she did it without any intention. The only light source in the room was of a couple candles at the end of the huge, mahogany table. It was once clean, exactly what she used to do her schoolwork on. Although, now, it was only something to place candles on, to watch the wax stick on it. Processing it as her pastime, she had grown used to the idea of being completely and utterly out on her own.

Breathing out, she sat on the floor, leaning her back against one of the legs of the sturdy table. She bowed her head slightly, leaving the crook in her neck to disappear. She wrapped her arms around herself, and felt her stomach growl, however it did not withdrawl a single sound. She sniffed through her nose, apparent to her developing cold. Shutting her eyes then, the light that fell on her dissolved, only leaving her with the images implanted on the insides of her eyelids. One by one, every memory and photographs came to life.

_"Mommy?" a young girl questioned, grinning childishly._

The girl was seated on a swing apart of a whole set. Her eyes danced with the gleaming sun on her pale skin. She was only about the age of seven, nothing possibly more. The tall woman behind her, standing firmly, pushed her on the swing gently. She was smiling, wanting to fully know what her daughter was on about. Placing the loose strands of her short brown hair behind her eyes quickly, she continued with her job of fulfilling the younger girl's wish of going to highest she could on a swing.

"What is it, dear?" the woman asked, her calm eyes following her young daughters every movement.

The girl continued to grin against the rippling wind. Her breathing was labored, and only because of her legs flipping outward and back. In the sunlight she was surely a joy to see.

"How is it like in Heaven?"

The woman was appauled by the question. Had her daughter been listening to the other children of the small community park? Where had she gotten such an idea to press on such a subject?

She hesitated, before replying to her daughter's question. More or less, it was rather another question. "Now, where do you come off asking something like that? Honey, have you been watching those sad movies in my closet again?"

"No!" the little girl exclaimed, shaking her head, though she stared the opposite way of where her mother stood. "I was only asking because that is where you said Uncle Mark went. Isn't it?"

The older woman felt her eyes moisten. For once she was glad that her daughter wasn't glancing at her. For if she was, she was sure to see the complete wreck behind her.

"Of course that's what I said," the woman said, scratching the back of her neck, and trying to keep her voice even. "Heaven is a wonderful place, and nothing on this planet could describe it. Uncle Mark was a good man, and when you die of good deeds, you deserve to go to heaven."

"So, I'll go to Heaven?" the young girl urged, wishing to understand her mother's opinion. Her deep brown eyes twinkled against the sun rays. "Won't I?"

A sob threatened to escape the woman's lips. She kept it locked in her throat, however, and she took a deep inhale of fresh oxygen.

"Well, if you be a good little girl like I have taught you to be, I see no reason for you not to." She was satisfied with her answer for such a question her seven-year-old daughter had just asked at such short notice.

"Mommy, will you go to heaven and leave me here?" The little girl had been pondering on this thought for a while now. Through the silence around her mother and herself, it was almost endearing.

The woman tensed slightly. She glanced around herself, half expecting someone to be eavesdropping on their conversation. When she could not find a single soul, she turned back to rest her eyes on the familiar fragile back of her little girl.

"There will come a time - " she began, trying her best to not croak out a cry that she needed to let out in the near futur. " - When I will leave you, but I don't want you to be worried. I don't need you to think that it's all your fault. For if you keep up your end of the bargain, God will find you just perfect to send up to Heaven - to be with me, if I fit the standards." She finished slowly, keeping her lips parted to take in long breaths and let out quick exhales.

"But when you're in Heaven," her daughter said. "And I'm here, how will I know you're out there? Is there any way for you to send me some sort of message?"

"Dear," the woman quickly responded, her voice slightly shrill. "If there is any way to send you a message from Heaven - I'll find one. I'll find a way to send you my love, Hermione; I promise."

She opened her eyes immediately. That last memory was just too much. She had relived it, the faint one she remembered every horrible day. One single way of looking at it was only in a terrible one.

_But Mother_, she thought to herself. _You have not seemed to keep your promise._


End file.
